Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.

….William Earnest Henley

5 thoughts on “Invictus

  1. For many years, FB, I’ve been committing a poem to memory every so often – and, rather oddly in terms of timing, this very one is the most recent
    They don’t get much richer in sublimity than this which really touches poetry’s zenith. Containing lines which have now reached national consciousness, though a lot of people may not know or have even heard of the original work or its author, I’ve only just found out myself that it may have been written in the wake of his foot amputation (because of an infection). Henley himself died at the sadly young age of 53, though his fame deserves to be assured through this mighty and impressively concise piece alone.

  2. I like this…seems to fit my life pretty well…still holding my head up in modest pride…regardless of the past trials.

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